The Last of the Mansons
by duo7700
Summary: Sam settles in behind the desk that once belonged to her father, reminiscing on what was, a day before the most somber event of her life.


**Well hey there! This is a Sam Manson-centric fic. If you hate Sam, then don't read.**

**Disclaimer: Words are mine, the IP is not.**

**The Last of the Mansons - A Danny Phantom Fanfiction penned by duo7700**

Yesterday, for the first time, I said the words, "Barukh attah Adonai eloheinu melekh ha-olam, dayan ha-emet." I let loose a drawn out sigh. The room smelled like him, a fact I am sure no one would have noticed. I spent every day near him. I recognized the smell of Old Spice mixed with French Vanilla coffee with a hint of chicory, the scent if his shampoo mixed with his cologne.

A fresh tear descended my left cheek. How long will the smells persist? The table before me was littered with items that were once his. I glanced at the calendar. He was scheduled to go golfing today with Mayor Anders. Do I go in his stead? I do not know how to golf.

I stare at the shining black phone and call the secretary, "H-hi, Miss Zhou?"

From the speaker, I hear the background noises of the employees, quickly drowned out by the much the woman young enough to be my daughter, "Yes, Mrs. Manson?"

I look at the calendar again, "Do you know why my father was playing golf with the mayor today?"

I hear her inhale, "I think it was a business meeting to renew the contract with the city."

I paused for a moment, wondering to myself if I should reschedule, ask for a meeting over lunch or at one of our offices, or just cancel. My father would haunt me for eternity I had I lost the contract, so that option was out. Rescheduling a golf game was stupid, as if I could learn golf anytime soon, "Please call the mayor and ask he'd sacrifice golf for lunch at the country club."

"Yes ma'am," I heard the soft click as she sat the handset onto her desk. I listened to the indistinct chattering in the distance. I was soon drawn to Miss Zhou's voice as she called the mayor's office on her other phone. I guess she cannot put people on hold. She picked up the phone once more, filling the office with a cacophony of static and rushing air, "The mayor suggests 'Marie's Kitchen' on Main Street, as it is more vegan friendly."

I let out a soft chuckle, as most people would not even consider my proclivity towards vegan cuisine, aside from Danny. Most think a salad with nice vinaigrette will suffice, "Tell him that sounds wonderful."

I soon heard the young woman's voice again, she kept the phones receiver in place, as I heard the mayor's secretary, "Noon" I told my secretary noon is fine before she asked. I looked at the wooden clock upon the desk, realizing I should leave now to get to the bistro on time.

I arrived early; the traffic lights were, for once, in my favor. I ordered a glass of chardonnay, which was mostly empty by the time Mayor Anders arrived half an hour later.

"Mrs. Manson," he nodded at me as he sat down in the wrought iron chair, "Thank you for meeting with me," he waived down a server, and asked for a scotch on the rocks. I asked for another pinot chardonnay.

The slicked back, dirt brown hair of the man shined in bright afternoon sunlight, "I'd like extend my condolences and thank you for meeting with me, and I know this is a difficult time for you."

"Thank you, mayor. But I'd like to get through this quickly, I have four more meetings after this," I picked up the wine flute and took the last bit of wine in so the server could take the glass.

"I propose a renewal of the existing contract, adjusted for inflation, of course," he said. I merely nodded.

"My thoughts exactly," I replied, "I'll have the papers drawn up, shall we meet again on Friday?"

The bespectacled man pulled out a black book and, after flipping through the pages Okayed the date, "Lunch again?"

I nodded as he downed the glass of scotch. He waved in farewell and his chauffeur opened the door for him. I gulped down my second glass of wine and flagged down my server again, finally ordering my lunch.

It was nearly three before I left, having run into the four others I had to meet. More deals were struck, more condolences given. I am just grateful the day is over. I called my secretary to inform her that I was going home.

Fortunately, home was right down the street. With five glasses of wine in my system, I would be past the legal limit. I walked down the street, fully aware I was weaving somewhat as I did. I entered my home, falling on the couch and falling asleep.

I woke up two hours later when my son walked through the door, "Hey mom."

I wiped my eyes and sleepily replied, "Good evening, Lucas. How was practice?"

He fell into the armchair, "We got the next game in the bag." I sat up and looked at him, looking at the boy who looked so much like his grandfather, paternal, of course. My dad most definitely was not built for football, or any sport for that matter. Unless you count chess, of course. He was a grand master.

I heard the dulcet tones of my husband's voice drift in from the kitchen, "Luke, let your mom be, she's tired."

I smiled, "I'm awake, Danny." I got up and walked into the kitchen, stealing a piece of carrot from the cutting board.

"Hey! Wait until I'm done," I grinned and popped the orange root in my mouth.

What are going to do about it?

A devilish grin appeared as a ring of light surrounded his midriff. I suddenly regret my words. He picked me up and flew straight up, "I'm going to tickle you in midair." I felt his hand snake up my shirt and he soon found his target: the spot three inches below my bra clasp. An involuntary spasm and giggling filled the cool air. "Mercy," I managed to say as he paused for a moment. He smiled and planted a passionate kiss. He gently floated back into the kitchen and put me down before becoming the raven-haired man I fell in love with all those years ago. I gently hit him, "I hate flying and heights, don't do that again, or I'll hit you harder." He laughed; it was the same speech I had given him countless times before. I knew him well enough to know he would do it again. I poured myself a glass of water and, as soon as the cool water touched my lips, my husband spoke, "Your cousin said their flight was delayed until early tomorrow morning."

I pulled the glass from my lips, turned my head towards him and nodded, "So, we don't need as much food." I stole another piece of carrot and ran out of the kitchen before he could catch me.

Later that night, as my family slept, I lay in bed wide-awake. I listened to the soft breathing of Danny as I thought of the day ahead of me: The funeral of my parents.

It is not as though I did not think this day would come. I knew, barring any unforeseen event, I would out live them. I just never thought it would be so soon. I felt a few tears roll down my cheek and settle on my ear lobe. I quickly left the bedroom after getting hastily dressed and, upon closing the front door, my silent sobbing became audible. As the sounds left my mouth, I slowly began to feel better. I set off in a direction picked at random, leaving a trail of tears in my wake.

I can't help but think: Was I a good daughter? I never once acquiesced to a request. I never wore any of the dresses my mother bought me. I never used proper etiquette, despite attending classes on the subject. I was my own person and saw no reason to do the things they asked of me.

Worst of all, they hated Danny. Their pleas were ignored as I dated him, after learning of our engagement, up until the morning of our wedding. They never gave a reason, save my mother, who told me to find a nice Jewish man. I suspected that they did not want their grandchildren to be like Danny's parents.

However, obviously, they took their reasons to the grave.

I looked around at my surroundings, having walked blindly for a while. I was in the park; I moved and sat down on the edge of the stone fountain. The chill of the night was amplified by the wind blowing through the trickling water next to me, eliciting an unwanted shiver as the minuscule droplets of chlorinated water hit the nape of my neck. I looked at my phone, the cyan numbers on the outside read "5:07".

I looked at the sky and saw that the sky was brightening near the horizon. I softly whispered, "Barukh attah Adonai eloheinu melekh ha-olam, dayan ha-emet."

I felt another tear run down my cheek and left for my home once more, hoping to get at least some sleep before the day truly began.

I was gently shaken awake by Danny, who was already dressed in his black suit. My normal morning smile was replaced by a quick nod. I sat on the edge of the bed and saw that my husband had already laid out my clothes. It was not long before I heard, "Baruch atah Hashem Elokeinu melech haolam, dayan ha'emet," and the frail looking rabbi ripped the clothes of my family. Not much later, all stood so that we may leave. For some reason, I finally felt as though I was not alone in this. I saw the tears of Danny hit his suit and roll down, his suit finally absorbing them as they hit his elbow. I saw our son, eyes bloodshot from crying. I knew I had the support of them all.

A soft smile played upon my face as I thought to myself, "He cared for you, and I know you cared for him."

**Did you see any mispelled words? I spelled the Hebrew words as best I could, seeing as I don't know Hebrew. So, tell me if I got any wrong.**

**Also, go review.**


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